


The Day The Immortal Died

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Cor Centric, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 20:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14120313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: With a heavy sigh, the former-Marshal of the Crownsguard sat himself on the edge of the Citadel, looking out over the dark city and the slight glimmer of the sun on the horizon. No matter how many years passed, he still wished Noctis had been given the opportunity to see the world he had saved flourish and become something greater. Regis would have been proud.Towards the end of his life, Cor returns to a place close to his heart and reminisces.





	The Day The Immortal Died

There was a time, many years ago, when a young Prince Regis and his Shield had brought the King’s thirteen-year-old bodyguard up to the top of the Citadel at the break of dawn. For a brief moment the young Cor had considered the possibility that he was about to be thrown to his death. How fitting. To be raised from the darkest pits of Insomnia by the King himself, only be thrown from what had to be the highest point in Eos (At least in his young mind.) It was a grim thought and one he had hoped would not come true. Then again, the Prince and Amicitia had come across him wandering the halls of the Citadel with a tear-stained face, a pitiful image to be sure. So perhaps they would have mercy on him.

Instead of facing a frankly terrifying death, he would rather face down an army of daemons alone than watch helplessly as the ground raced to meet him, Regis had placed a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him closer to the edge with a few gentle words. Whatever fear he had held, was somewhat placated when the Prince had casually commented that he himself had once jumped from the edge for no other reason than he was bored, and had survived. To which Amicitia had then confirmed that he and the Prince quite often tested his warping abilities by jumping from high locations. (They were utterly insane Cor would later conclude after witnessing one such event.)

No more words were shared as the unlikely trio watched the sun rise over the horizon. The memory of that morning was forever etched in his mind. It was after all, the day that thirteen year old Cor Leonis gained his first true friends. 

And if someone had sat that brash child down and told him that sixty-five years later he would once again find himself standing atop the Citadel, Regis and Clarus long dead as well as the former’s son, he would have kicked them in the shins. 

But indeed sixty-three years later, at the age of seventy-six, Cor found himself in that exact position. He was quite sure he looked as pitiful in that moment as he did all those years ago. Though the young, inexperienced and terrified child had been replaced with a battle-hardened, weary old man. It felt right to return to the place where his life had truly begun when he could feel that same life slowly slipping away. 

It was a miracle he had survived as long as he had, with so many weakened bones and organs. 

With a heavy sigh, the former-Marshal of the Crownsguard sat himself on the edge of the Citadel, looking out over the dark city and the slight glimmer of the sun on the horizon. No matter how many years passed, he still wished Noctis had been given the opportunity to see the world he had saved flourish and become something greater. Regis would have been proud.

Closing his eyes, he could almost hear Regis and Clarus, the latter wrapping an arm around the former’s shoulders and insulting him with one of the ‘old man’ jokes Cor had so often used on them. He could imagine Cid, the grumpy man he’d become in the later years, whacking him over the head and telling him to get up off his ass and stop sulking. And Weskham, the one friend whose fate he never discovered, somehow managing to get the others under control. He had always been able to accomplish the impossible. 

He could hear the giggles of the Prince he had failed to protect. See those bright blue eyes and the pout that often accompanied them when Cor had caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. In a way, he had never needed a family of his own, not when he had his dearest friends and their own children to look after. They had been more than enough. Had Gladiolus and Iris not been around after the return of the Dawn, Cor was quite certain he would have allowed himself to fade sooner. But now they had families of their own and no longer needed him. Very few did these days. 

Iris was a fully grown woman with a family of her own, a husband and son; Gaius Clarus Noctis Amicitia. Quite troublemaker. He’d walked her down the aisle at her wedding, and if he cried while doing so no one ever held it against him. Despite protesting against it she had asked to have a father daughter dance with him that night, and who was he to argue? And to top it all, she’d declared him to be ‘Grandpa Cor’ after Clarus’ birth and insisted that he should be one of the first to hold him. The photo Prompto had taken of him watching the child with a bewildered look on his face, had remained his phone’s background for three years.

Gladiolus and Ignis had finally admitted their feelings for one another, marrying two years after Ignis had been elected Governor of Lucis. The pair made quite the ruling couple, so much so that Ignis had yet to lose an election despite his blindness. Gladio had taken up the task of reorganising a form of military force, not that there was any true fighting to be done bar a few remaining Imperial loyalists hidden in the heart of Gralea. And when they needed advice, they no longer came to him, they had one another after all.

He’d made peace with Prompto, having sat the boy, no, man, down after the return of the Dawn and told him the truth. It was liberating for both of them. Prompto had sat silently for nearly two hours while Cor told him the story of how he’d rescued an innocent child from the darkest parts of Gralea. How he hadn’t meant to but the baby had opened his eyes and stared up at him with such love that he couldn’t bare to leave him behind. How he, Regis and Clarus had spent nearly three weeks trying to find the perfect home for him, during which time he had been cared for by Cor. Prompto said nothing when he finished, simply leaning over to hug him. If there was one thing he would never regret, saving Prompto was it.

And Monica...bless her. He wasn’t quite sure how she’d done it, but by some miracle she had stayed by his side. Perhaps in another life they could have become something more, not this one however. He was just grateful for her presence and the stability that came with her. They’d had some good times together. Far too many drunken nights in front of the television with a ridiculously unhealthy amount of food. Throwing rocks at the stars and screaming their frustrations at the Astrals. Running through Lestallum in their underclothes...no...that was just him. Monica had stood to the side and cackled. 

Yes, his life had been a good one. Filled with torment and suffering, however the good far outweighed the bad.

Had he had more energy, Cor would have jumped at the sensation of being enveloped in a warm embrace, and the feeling of someone taking hold of his hand. His imagination was truly running wild. But he allowed himself the small indulgence, relaxing against the ethereal arms holding him and smiled. For the first time in so many years, he felt at peace. 

Lucis could cope without him now. They no longer needed their Immortal.

\---

Breathing heavily Gladiolus hid his face in Cor’s hair, arms tightening around the older man as his chest fell for the last time. Beside him Iris covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her other desperately clinging onto Cor’s. The sound of her muffled sobs broke Gladiolus’ weak resolve, his sorrowful cry carried on the wind for those gathered behind and on the floors below to hear. 

It was Prompto who broke away from their little group first. The blonde pulled away from where he had plastered himself against Ignis’ side, holding onto whatever part of Cor he could, and dashed away into the depths of the Citadel. His sobs barely audible above those of the Amicitia siblings. Iris followed not moments later, barely making it more than a few feet away before she collapsed into the waiting arms of Monica and wailed for the loss of another ‘father’.

For his own part, Ignis shed silent tears, releasing his hold on Cor’s hand and turning his face towards the warmth of the rising sun. He had suspected something was wrong with Cor when earlier in the week he had sought him out, and from what he’d gathered from the others, Cor had said his goodbyes without any of them realising before it was too late. In fact, had Prompto not come across the neat stack of letters left on his bed, having returned from his morning run an hour earlier that usual, they would likely have not gone searching for him. The thought of him dying alone made Ignis shudder.

Sighing softly Ignis allowed himself a moment to grieve for the loss of another member of their small family, before Gladio’s heavy sobs tore him from his thoughts. Reaching a hand out he found his partner’s arm, squeezing the bicep gently as he moved in to wrap his arms around the larger man.

It would be hard, but they would get through it. They always did.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't happy with the previous version! Hence the reason it's been re-written!! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and/or didn't cry too much! 
> 
> Please feel free to come and scream about things with me on Tumblr: TheDarkLordMegatron


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